Surrogate
by Malign Empyrean
Summary: A found baby and two unsuspecting surrogates. Merle and Daryl Dixon had no idea what they were getting themselves into when they searched out that noise. Will they be able to keep it alive, or will they die in the process? Sorry for the terrible summary. AU, if anywhere, it would take place before they joined the Atlanta Survival Camp.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything of or relating to The Walking Dead. I am not making any money from this and I wouldn't even if I could. I also do not intend any copy right infringement. **

* * *

><p>"Shh," Merle hushes as a sound wails through the building. Daryl makes a face as he looks over his brother's shoulder. The wailing sounds again.<p>

"Is that a—,"

"No way in hell," Merle nearly whispers. His lips part as he cocks his head as if the tilt will give him better hearing. As a third wail sounds, without warning, Merle races through the building. They had already cleared the space—and this was an urgent matter. Walkers or not, this was something worth being investigated.

"Merle," Daryl calls out. He furrows his brow and shakes his head before racing after.

Merle shakes his head as he knocks over empty boxes onto the floor. "Where the hell's it comin' from?" He lets out an anguished growl as the wailing continues.

Daryl pauses for a moment, his eyes wandering the room as his ears try to point out the direction of the noise. Slowly, as Merle rips open a cupboard, Daryl follows the noise. Quietly and gently, he lowers himself to a wooden crate. As his brother curses and growls, Daryl calmly pulls open the crate and gasps.

"You find it?" Merle calls out and quickly makes his way towards his brother.

"It's a baby," Daryl says as he reaches in and takes the thing into his arms. Its mouth opens wide and lets out another cry.

"Shut it up," Merle growls as he winces with the noise.

"How?" Daryl asks as he turns his head to his brother.

Merle rolls his eyes and reaches over Daryl. For a moment, Daryl believe his brother just might harm the baby but relaxes as he sees Merle's finger slip into the baby's mouth. "How," he mocks. "How do you think?" Merle cheeks pinch up as his finger follows with Daryl rising. "It's probably hungry. Put it back and let it wait for its mamma to come and feed it."

Daryl furrows his brow as he looks at the baby. "I don't think its mom's comin' back," he murmurs.

"Then let nature take its course," Merle says as he takes back his finger.

Daryl glares at his brother and then quickly looks to the baby as it starts crying again. His finger slips into its mouth as he struggles to hold the squirming thing. "How can you say that; it can't be older than a few months—,"

"The only baby I have to look after is you, Daryl," Merle says. "I don't want to just leave it—but we can't take it." He shakes his head. "It'll cry and that'll be the end of us," he adds.

Daryl sighs. "You're right." Merle was always right—even when he was wrong, he was right. Daryl looks down at the baby as it closes its eyes. It was thin and, though loud, the cry was strained from overuse. "I'm takin' it," he says.

"What'd I just hear?" Merle bends with the question. "Daryl, what the hell do you think you're doin'?"

"Being a human being," he says with a slight shrug. "Just because the world ended doesn't mean we're given the right to just… forget about life." Merle shakes his head with his eyes wincing, but before he can say something, Daryl raises his brow and takes shifts his footing. "If this was my kid I would hope someone would take it with them… especially if I wasn't 'round anymore."

"Well, look at the humanitarian," Merle mocks. "Should I get you an award for your kindness?" Daryl makes a face and turns his head away. Merle scoffs. "This kid's just gonna slow us down, brother. Ain't gonna be nothing but trouble, I guarantee."

Daryl shrugs. "What does it matter?" His face softens as he looks back down at the baby. "It's something good in a world of bad—,"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, a precious lil' bundle of spit up and shit." Merle turns away as he runs a hand through his short hair. The last time he had to deal with a baby was over thirty years ago. He hated it then, and he was sure as shit going to hate it now. As he turns back to his brother, he sighs.

"If we're leavin' it, I'm waiting for the owner to come back—,"

"It ain't a pet, stupid," Merle says with a slight chuckle and the tips of Daryl's ears burn red. Merle takes a breath. "No one's comin' back for it."

Daryl rocks the baby in his arms as its eyes begin closing. "I guess we ain't leavin' then," he says, his eyes rising as if to challenge his brother.

"_We_?"

"You can go—but I know you won't, not without me," Daryl says with a bob of his head.

"You sure 'bout that, baby brother?" Merle arches an eyebrow as his chin lowers. His eyes examine Daryl for a moment and then look to the baby. "It's gonna die, anyway—,"

"You don't know that—,"

"When'd you become such a puss?" Merle growls but Daryl stands his ground. Merle's brow furrows as Daryl breaks eye contact first. "Darlina," he says in a singsong way and Daryl glares back. "That's what I should call you—especially if you wanna be some kid's nanny." He lets out a chuckle. "Dary Poppins," he says with a smile at the pun.

"Just leave," Daryl says.

"You some kind of weirdo?" he continues to insult. "Like little babies close to your skin, brother?" Daryl's face screws up with disgust. "Like their warmth and soft little hands?"

"You sick fuck," Daryl grunts.

Merle's shoulders drop. "Put the baby down and let's get a move on. We're losing daylight—,"

"I said go. If you're so concerned about yourself, then leave." Daryl shakes his head as the baby begins to cry again. "I ain't ditchin' a baby. That's cold, man."

Merle lets out a frustrated sigh. He clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes back as the baby continues to cry as Daryl holds it. He pushes his brother and takes the child into his arms. Daryl attempts to grab at it, but Merle swats his hands away.

The man then brings the baby to his shoulder and bounces on his knees as he hums a soft tune. After a moment, the baby is quiet aside from the occasional whimper. "You don't know enough about kids to be takin' one out there—,"

"And _you_ do?"

"You're here, aren't you?" Merle retorts. Daryl turns his head away with his eyes narrowed. Merle takes another breath and lowers the baby to the crooks of his elbow. "This got you tied up in knots, don't it?" Daryl doesn't answer. "I'll tell you what," Merle continues, "the first group we run into, we're planting them with the kid." Daryl watches his brother for a moment. "_If_ we make it that long," he adds quickly. Daryl nods as he struggles to hide his smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Story I've been thinking about writing. Just a thought.<strong>

**Let me know what you think of it please. I have no idea when this will be updated (no later than a week from now)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything of or relating to The Walking Dead. I am not making any money from this and I wouldn't even if I could. I also do not intend any copy right infringement.**

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to the guest user last chapter. I don't know how long this story will be. I feel safe in saying it will probably be higher than ten chapters, though.<strong>

* * *

><p>"You need to find somethin' to feed 'im," Merle says as he places the baby into a makeshift cradle; a box filled with old newspapers with a sweater on top. He had decided the baby was a boy not because he checked, but because it was a default for him. He even referred to their childhood dog, Brittany, as a he. Merle shrugs. "I doubt he'll have the strength to eat… but if you do—," he looks down at the baby and shakes his head, "—I give you less than a week."<p>

Daryl narrows his eyes and looks away. Merle couldn't think positively for even a second. "Where would we find formula?" Daryl asks after a moment.

Merle's brow furrows as he looks away from the baby. "You could check out some of the stores down the road," he says with a faint nod. "Chances are people took what was on the shelves and out in the open." He presses his lips together. "The back would probably still have stock, though," he adds. Suddenly, Merle scowls and tosses his head back. "Can't believe you wanna do this," he nearly whispers. His light eyes look at his brother. "You could be riskin' your life—all for what; a little twerp that ain't able to help itself."

Daryl's eyes lower to the floor. He turns his head partly away, his eyes looking to nothing in particular. "What if it was me?" he asks as his deep blue-grey eyes scan his brother's face. Merle furrows his brow and Daryl shrugs. "What if it was me?" he repeats. "Would you leave me behind?"

"Of course not," Merle mutters.

Daryl takes a breath. "Then pretend he's me." Merle furrows his brow and slowly lifts the child back up. If Daryl was going to go searching, Merle would be damned if he didn't keep an eye on him.

As they walk out the door and down the main street of the small town, Merle holds the baby in his arms; one keeping the small body close while the other sits across its mouth. He didn't want to risk it alarming walkers had they been close enough to hear.

"What 'bout that place?" Daryl asks as he points a finger to a small building with green siding. _William's Grocer_ sat in huge letters just below the roof.

Merle narrows his eyes. "Go check it out," he says through the side of his mouth.

"Aren't you comin'?"

Merle stares at his brother for a long moment before furrowing his brow. "I thought you wanted to save the baby." Daryl nods. "Then tell me how bringin' it in there's gonna save it," Merle says with a quick tongue. "Them geeks might be in there. What do we do while I'm holdin' Babe and your shootin' bolts?" he asks. "What if one of them things comes after me?" He shakes his head with a grin. "Because I sure as spit ain't gonna think twice about givin' them a little snack if it means I get out alive."

Daryl makes a face. "You would feed me to the geeks?"

"No…" Merle looks down at the baby.

"Then you don't feed him to them," Daryl says, his words slow and stern.

Merle's eyes rise as Daryl makes his way to the building's entrance. He wouldn't have given the baby to the walkers. Merle wasn't a good man—but he wasn't a villain. As Daryl enters the building and is clear from view, Merle hold the baby out in his arms.

It looked like any other baby he had ever seen; fat cheeks, big head, wide eyes… the only thing different about it was the fact that it was so thin. Merle's fingers could feel each bone in the child's ribcage and spine. He shakes his head as the baby lets out a whimper of discomfort.

"Oh no," he says softly. Merle brings the child back to his shoulder and looks down at its face. "You're a big boy," he says. "Big boys don't cry."

Merle sighs as he sees movement in the clouded picture window of the grocery store. "You put a spell on him, you know that?" he asks after a moment. "You must think you're some kind of special." Merle readjusts his arms and takes a deep breath. What the hell was his brother thinking? It was hard enough to keep themselves alive little lone a baby. Daryl had just made a difficult situation harder than hard. "You'd have to be…"

* * *

><p>Daryl brings his crossbow around the aisle's end and watches carefully. Nearly everything had been taken from the shelves. All that remained seemed to be those that could not be preserved and food that could took longer than a minute to prepare. He had gagged and dry heaved when he had passed the produce section. Flies buzzed around hungrily as their maggot children ate happily in the rotting fruit and vegetables. Even the dairy section was infested with insects. Melted ice cream leaked onto the floor—Daryl had slipped but gained back balance—while in other spots it sat dry in its sugary cement.<p>

Daryl brings his red bandana out of his back pocket and smothers his mouth and nose into it. This place was a wild trip of scents; anywhere from curdled milk to rotting meat and everything in between. He tiptoes passed another aisle and slowly begins down aisle three; the baby and feminine products section. As he reaches the baby products, he sighs. All that remains are two packs of diapers and a dried up box of baby wipes.

Daryl furrows his brow as he reads the diaper packs. "Little Movers… Cruisers?" he shakes his head faintly as he pulls his chin back in distaste. "What size…" He rips open a package and raises his brow as a handful falls onto the floor. Daryl kicks them off to the side nonchalantly as if someone would say something. He lowers his crossbow to the shelf and opens up one of the diapers to examine it.

Daryl furrows his brow and sighs. The diaper looked too big… but he _could_ tighten it… couldn't he? He drops the diaper onto the shelf and takes his crossbow back. Daryl wasn't here for diapers. He needed formula. They could handle a little mess, but food couldn't be substituted.

Daryl makes his way to the back of the store and slowly pushes open the swing doors. It was dark; no windows for natural light. With one foot in front of the other, he steps further onto the cement floor. Walkers were a hassle to deal with—especially alone—however, not seeing any meant that someone else had been here. Daryl's eyes narrow. He was almost hoping for a walker to come around moaning for a bite; at least then he knew there would be supplies back here.

As he walks further, he pauses as he hears movement around the bend. He readies himself with his crossbow and ventures forth, his breath stable and shoulders relaxed.

"Whoa, calm down," Merle says as he turns to see his brother aiming at him. Merle smirks as Daryl's eyebrows invert with the lowering of his weapon. "There was a door open in the back," he says with his hand lazily gesturing to a back entrance. "Babe started up again. I thought we'd be better off in here than out there."

Daryl lets out a breath and takes a step forward as his older brother goes back to scavenging whatever sat in the box before him. "Found a backpack," Merle says over his shoulder. "Figured we could carry 'im in there when our arms get tired—,"

"Where is he?"

Merle turns to his brother. "Don't worry, he's safe," he says with a bob of his head. He scoffs as Daryl stares back at him. He waves him over as he walks towards an office. "Didn't want you blaming me for killin' him." He opens the door and reveals the baby lying half asleep on a pile of newspapers surrounded by three bags of sugar to keep it from rolling around. "Wasn't sure if there would be geeks in here, so I..." Merle adds as his hand rises to the back of his head and runs down his neck.

Daryl looks down at the baby and nods. "Did you find anything?" he asks.

"Formula, a couple bottles… ass wipes, diapers." Merle shakes his head. "There's a lot here, but we're gonna have to take as little as we can." Daryl makes a face. "We can't carry all that shit—,"

"Moms do," Daryl says blatantly.

Merle furrows his brow. "Moms also know where they're going and how long they'll be." He shrugs. "We don't." Merle takes a moment as he watches Daryl look down at the child. "We should take about four cans of that shit… bring some water bottles and maybe a few packs of diapers." He licks his lips as he looks outside the office. "We're gonna need another backpack…"

Daryl turns his head as the baby starts to whimper again. "Take that damn diaper off 'im," Merle calls as he leaves the office. With nervous hands and stiff fingers, Daryl lowers himself to his knees and begins pulling at the buttons of the onesie. As he releases the over hydrated diaper, he covers his nose as his other hand fans. "Looks like diaper rash," Merle says as he taps Daryl's shoulder with a diaper and box of wipes. "Might want to pack some baby powder before we go, too."

Merle lowers himself to the office chair and smirks as Daryl struggles to clean the mess. "No," he says with a shake of his head. He sighs loudly and rises again. "You need to be thorough," he says as he pushes Daryl out of the way. "You wouldn't want shit sitting on your twig and berries, would you?" Daryl furrows his brow as Merle takes over the diaper changing. "Go make the bottle." He nudges his head towards the desk. "Three scoops for six ounces," he directs as Daryl approaches the supplies and carefully opens the can of formula. "There we go," Merle says with a grin and a raspy chuckle. "Nice clean ass and a new diaper. What more could a person want?" He lifts the baby into his arms and frowns as it lets out a wail. Merle closes the door and sighs.

"How do you know this shit, Merle?" Daryl asks as he hands the bottle to his brother.

Merle puts his finger over the nipple and shakes it before sticking it into the baby boy's hungry mouth. A grin pulls at the man's lips and he shakes his head as he looks to his brother. "How do you think you made it this far?" He shrugs slightly and looks back down at the baby. "Sure as hell wasn't thanks to mom and dad."

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think of it please so far!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything of or relating to The Walking Dead. I am not making any money from this and I wouldn't even if I could. I also do not intend any copy right infringement.**

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you again to the guest reviewer!<strong>

**Actually, thank you to everyone for the reviews. It's quite intense to see the attention the story has been getting. I apologize for the lack of updating as well. I hope it hasn't made too many people stray away.**

**Thanks again!**

* * *

><p>Merle holds the baby as Daryl carries the pack. There was little to argue about. Merle had stated Daryl and his crossbow would be of little use while he held the baby, and Merle seemed almost content with holding the child. There was a certain relaxation that seemed to come with holding a baby—not that Merle would ever admit to such a thing.<p>

"Where do we go from here?" Merle asks as he shifts the baby in his arms.

Daryl shrugs. "I don't know… I guess we keep doing what we've been doing—,"

"That might sound like a good idea if it was just the two of us, li'l brother," Merle says with a furrowed brow. "But with Babe, we're a li'l restricted."

Daryl takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "Man, something stinks," he says and then slowly turns to Merle.

"Don't you dare look at me, baby brother; I own up to it—,"

"Not you, dumbass," Daryl says with a grimace. "The kid," he says and Merle makes a face.

The older man shakes his head and holds the baby out. "I dealt with the last one—," Daryl fumbles as he takes the baby into one arm as his crossbow lays at his side, "—time for you to do the deed," Merle finishes.

Daryl looks down at the whimpering baby in his arms. He slowly lowers his crossbow to the ground as he stiffly moves readjusts the baby. Daryl winces his eyes as he looks around their surroundings. "Where should I—,"

"Right here," Merle says with a nod.

"On the road?" the younger man asks with his cheeks pinching up.

"Can't hurt him; sure he get's a little dirt on him, but nothing too bad." Merle drops the bag at Daryl's feet.

As Daryl unbuttons the onsie; Merle circles the two, his eyes ever vigilant on the trees and grassy fields. Daryl hushes the baby as it whimpers and squirms. "I know…" he says as he cleans the baby's bottom. "Just keep quiet long enough…" He reaches into the bag Merle dropped at his side. "I wouldn't want someone doing this to me either," he adds as he lifts the baby's feet and tucks the new diaper below.

Merle narrows his eyes as he sees movement in the trees. He cranes his neck as the low branches rustle. Quickly, Merle rushes towards the threat and takes out his hunting knife. Just as Daryl finishes the diaper change, a walker claws out of the trees, its mouth stretched open with a groan.

Daryl brings the baby into his arms as the onsie still flaps open. As Merle brings his blade under the walker's chin, Daryl's hand rises to the baby's head as the infant twists his face towards the walker. With Merle angling the knife with the walker's fall, he turns away and wipes his knife clean from the dark, dead crimson.

Daryl nods his thanks and startles as the baby boy lets out a wail. He starts bobbing the baby in his arms and hushes as Merle makes a face of distaste. "Where there's one, there's bound to be more. Shut that thing up before they take notice," Merle warns as he looks to his brother and then back to the trees the walker came from. Daryl hushes more and ounces the baby as his body vibrates with urgency. "I'm serious, Daryl; shut him up," Merle growls.

"I'm trying to," Daryl barks back with a little more anger than he intended. Merle's nose twitches as he glares back at Daryl. He takes four quick strides towards the two and places his hand over the baby's open mouth. Daryl looks down as the child struggles to free himself and then gasps for air over the muffling palm. "You're going to snuff him out, bro," Daryl grunts as he turns his torso away making Merle's hand slip away.

"Better than being eaten by biters," Merle barks. He drops his arms to his sides and lets out a loud sigh as the baby continues to cry; its wails long and loud. "Might as well just toss ourselves to them," he hollers over the baby. "Ain't no difference as long as he keeps sounding the dinner bell," he adds as he turns his head to Daryl.

"What are you worried about; it was only one," Daryl says with his eyes narrowing. "Ain't like it was a horde—,"

"What happens when there is one?" Merle asks as he steps towards his younger brother. "Are you gonna let him cry until a geek bites into your neck?" He shakes his head. "Snuff him out—be doin' him a favour," he says. "There are worse ways of dyin' out here. Snuffin' is probably the most peaceful," he adds through the side of his mouth.

"You're not killing him," Daryl says simply.

"Would you rather him die from the geeks—,"

"If it means he'll actually have a chance," Daryl growls as he takes a warning step to his brother making the baby cry harder. He looks down at the baby and takes a deep breath. He shakes his head and readjusts the infant in his arms. "He's something good," Daryl says after a moment. His eyes shyly look to his brother. "He's something good in such a shit time. The least we can do is try to makes sure he _stays_ good."

Merle lets out a dry laugh. "When'd you become a poet, li'l brother?" he asks with a mocking smile. "You think that-that—," he rolls his hand in the direction of the baby, "—that li'l crotch droppling is a sign this world is gonna get better?" He raises his hands up and around him as if to showcase the world. "This is as good as it gets, Darlina," he says as his hands lower back to his sides. "Babe ain't gonna be in this world long. Best not get too attached to the thing," he adds with his voice lowering.

Daryl shakes his head as he watches Merle. The older man lets out a hum of laughter as Daryl's nose crinkles. "He's not dying," he says as his deep blue eyes look down at the child's beet red face. "I'm not gonna let him," he adds quietly.

"You will," Merle says passively. "If it ain't now, it'll be later. You'll be doin' something and suddenly Babe will be crawlin' towards something he shouldn't be. Who will have to deal with the ruin afterwards? Your old pal Merle," he says as he points to his chest. He shakes his head and waves a hand as the baby slows his cries to whimpers. "You keep him; that's okay—but don't come cryin' to me when his blood's on display for world." He narrows his eyes. "Tell me then all about how he's the only good left."

Merle rolls his eyes as Daryl lowers his chin to the baby's head as if unfazed by the argument. He curses under his breath as he marches back to the bag on the road and swings it over his shoulder. "You think this is a game, baby brother. You're actin' like those li'l girls who think babies are just dolls—meant to look pretty and be cute." He shakes his head. "It ain't like that; out of all the things I have said to you, you should listen to this." He heads down the road and lets out a growl of frustration. "I don't want to be runnin' for my life wonderin' if you made it out with that thing. I don't want to be worried I might lose you," he says as he turns his head back.

"You ain't gonna lose me," Daryl says as he lifts his crossbow from the ground.

"You say that like you know—,"

"If you help with him, I know I'll make it—so will you and so will he. You just need to help," he says as he approaches Merle's side. "Takes a village, right?" he adds with a bit of a smirk.

"This ain't gonna take a village, this is gonna take a city—hell, an entire continent," Merle murmurs as the two head off.

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think of it please.<strong>


End file.
